The Jabiim story
by QueenYoda
Summary: A year after Obi-wan comes back from his torture at the hands of Ventress, he realizes that he was not the only one tortured and emotionally scarred by the experience, and through another's pain, he finds peace.
1. Chapter 1

Anakin had once found it hard to believe that even the oldest members among the ranks of the Jedi Order, (meaning Yoda) could not remember a fight as deadly and cruel as that fight had been. And some masters said Yoda had been present during the Sith Wars.

However, he believed it now, after he had fought the battle of Jabiim. And won.

He had seen praise several times from those that had doubted him before. Many had called the miracle child. His name was on every holo-news channel in the galaxy, the Padawan who had done what no other master could do.

Not even his own.

Anakin had thrown his holo-recorder at the wall upon hearing that. It made Obi-wan sound like a weak man, a lost cause, as if Anakin had not learned everything he knew from the man anyway. As if he had not gone through torture for the Republic's safety.

The now famous apprentice raced through the halls of the med-bay, swerving his body to avoid the few people in the halls as he had on Courascant, when chasing down the shape shifter who had tried to kill Padme.

It was late at night. Anakin had been busying with interviews and newscasters all day. But now; **_only now_**, did he have time to see the man he had not laid eyes on in two months. The man who had been believed dead until now.

Obi-wan Kenobi, Anakin's master and the closest thing he had to a father, had been captured by Ventress, a Sith Assassin. No one knew where in the kriff this new villain had come from, but Anakin vowed that one day, she would pay for whatever she had done to his teacher.

The doctor who had performed on Obi-wan had spoken to him earlier. _"I've never seen anything like this. I doubt anyone has,"_ his voice rang in Anakin's head. _"Whoever this woman is, she's a cruelly creative Sith," _he had sighed.

_"There were shards of hot metal pushed underneath his fingernails before they were torn off. She electrocuted his spine several times, which could very well have killed him. His arms and legs were broken, cut and mended before being broken and cut again. This… This is not torture. This is whatever is__** beyond**__ torture."_

Anakin's eyes stung just remembering the hand the doctor had put on his shoulder. "_I don't know how he survived. And Son, since I have heard that this man raised you, I'm going to give you the advice I'd give myself if this were my father, for when you go see him: brace yourself. This is __**past**__ the worse," _

Anakin finally pushed his way ahead of a woman, hurrying in her nightdress to some discreet place with some discreet male her husband did not know she was seeing, certainly.

Force, Anakin could not wait to leave this planet of death and grief.

At long last, Anakin stopped before the door. Behind it, he could sense the force signature he had missed so much. The one the masters had tried to convince him was dead and gone.

"I knew they weren't right," he mumbled to Obi-wan, on the other side of the door. "I knew it, master. Yet I did nothing to help you," force, force he wished he had.

Obi-wan did not deserve whatever this witch had done.

Anakin stayed outside of the door, breathing hard from his busy day. His head ached with the lack of sleep he had been through.

His heart pounded in his chest with nervousness and sweat poured down his forehead fearfully. No part of him wanted to see what the doctor had warned him about. But his heart screamed that this was still Obi-wan, still his father, and Obi-wan needed him.

Anakin opened the door.

What he saw made him gasp and take a hurried step back. This was not Obi-wan. This was his corpse.

The body on the neatly made bed was so terribly skinny that it resembled a twig that would have broken under Anakin's foot. Under Obi-wan's eyes were dark bags that hung down, almost touching his nose.

The rest of his body was disfigured and dismantled with beatings and other various torture methods that Anakin was sure he did not want to know about.

But the worst was Obi-wan's eyes. They were no longer the sharp azure, glowing with intelligence, boldness and felicity, but a dull sorrowful gray that had seen too many horrors. His eyes were dead, dead as someone who had been broken before he had died.

A tear ran down his cheek. Anakin let out a strangled cry of pain at seeing this… This horror. All of a sudden, Obi-wan's eyes, which had been staring blankly at Anakin as if he were not there, sharpened into dull awareness. Nothing changed except for the momentary twinkle of recognition.

"Oh, force," Anakin choked, covering his mouth in shock.

He was afraid to step inside, to take one more step. Suddenly, he wished with all of his might that Obi-wan had died in the explosion. At least then he would not have to sit here as broken as Anakin saw him.

"Anakin," somehow, the gnarled, hoarse voice that unexpectedly broke out from the corpse made Anakin jump. Obi-wan tried to smile; it came out as more of a disfigured grimace of pain.

Obi-wan stretched out a hand. His entire arm shook. "My apprentice, I heard you-" he let out a violent cough. "Won the battle," he whispered so softly Anakin had to use the force to hear. "Congratulations." **_What?_** Anakin finally regained his voice.

"Obi-wan," he had never used his master's real name before. "Force, master, I'm…" His voice cracked. Obi-wan's hand dropped and he let out another harsh cough, wincing at each inhalation of breath.

Anakin stayed rooted to the spot, helpless. He was afraid, so afraid that Obi-wan's coughs would turn into his last breaths. Shock and helplessness paralyzed his muscles. "Anakin," Obi-wan wheezed in between coughs.

"Anakin, don't stand there, as if… You're afraid of me. Come… Here. I have not… Seen you in…" He could not finish, but instead fell into more coughing. Anakin saw a splatter of blood land on his blanket. His sluggish blood propelled into action.

He raced forward and put an arm around his master, helping him to sit up. At last, Obi-wan's coughs receded.

"Thank... You," he gasped breathlessly. "Don't thank me," Anakin instructed gently, his brows furrowed. He could feel and name every bone underneath Obi-wan's clothes.

The blasted man was starving. The witch had starved him, nearly. Anakin had never seen him so malnourished. He lowered Obi-wan gently.

"You're skinny as a skeleton," he told him angrily. Obi-wan gripped Anakin's arm weakly, as if he suspected he would suddenly vanish into thin air.

"Well… Ventress did not… Very much believe… In proper nutrition," he shivered when he said her name. Anakin patted his shoulder awkwardly. Then he smiled, something like joy overcoming him. "I'm… I'm very glad you're alive, master," he said, lowering his eyes. He wished he could say more, to tell Obi-wan the whole truth.

The truth was that Anakin had spent days in his room sobbing when they had convinced him his master was dead. That he had wanted to run the lightsaber through his own heart. If not for the thought of Padme, He might have.

He wanted to tell Obi-wan that he had missed him so intensely it had made his chest ache. But that was attachment, and attachment was forbidden for a Jedi, even if that Jedi had raised Anakin since he was nine.

And Obi-wan was a firm believer in this rule, so Anakin was downright shocked when a shriveled, bony hand reached up and gently cupped his cheek.

He stared at Obi-wan, befuddled. "Ventress… Told me she'd… Killed you," Obi-wan whispered darkly. Anakin gulped and leaned into the touch. He put a hand on top of Obi-wan's, warming the trembling, cold skin touching his warm cheek. "I'm alright," he replied with a weak smile.

Obi-wan shook his head and commenced with coughing again. His hand snatched itself from Anakin's cheek. His entire body started to shake.

Anakin felt his heart give a jolt. "Obi-wan?!" He reached frantically for the cup of water near Obi-wan's bed and held it to his lips.

"Drink, drink!" He ordered sharply. Obi-wan obeyed. Slowly, his coughing subsided until he was only breathing raggedly. That scared Anakin almost as much as the coughing. He sighed and messed with Obi-wan's pillow anxiously.

"Are you comfortable? Do you need anything?" He asked. "No," Obi-wan closed his eyes. His body quivered slightly under the blankets.

"Are you cold?" Anakin asked. "Burning," he frowned and touched Obi-wan's forehead gently. "You have a fever," he confirmed worriedly. Something like a bitter smile touched Obi-wan's lips. "A fever? Yes… Well, I certainly noticed," his humor was intact, at least.

Anakin sighed and let his arms fall to his sides. He felt so… helpless.

"Do you want anything?" Anakin continued. He needed to do something, anything to help. He could not leave Obi-wan's side. He would sit in his room imagining every impossible situation could happen to him. Or just plain thinking that his master would fall into death.

"Water? Food? More blankets?" He stood by anxiously. Obi-wan's dead eyes were staring at him with misery. It was breaking his heart. "No, Anakin. I'm... Fine. Just…. Stay there. Make sure I… Don't fall… Asleep," Obi-wan requested. "Are you sure?" Anakin asked.

"Are you sure you don't need anything? You look like you're hungry, I can…" Obi-wan interrupted. "You can go… If you want… Anakin. I'm fine," he said.

Anakin stood there, shocked, and then realized that Obi-wan had seen through his attempts. Anakin **_did_** want to leave. How could he not? He had thought Obi-wan was dead for the past… However long it had been.

And now, he came out to find he wasn't but to see Obi-wan like… Like this. It was shattering his heart; and what was more, he could not do anything to help his teacher. Nothing. Every agony, every cut and burn, Anakin could not take away. Every painful memory or jar, he could not take away or avenge.

He couldn't do **_anything_**.

However, he would not leave. Not when Obi-wan so obviously needed him. "You aren't fine," and that was another thing, why did he keep saying that? He obviously was not fine.

If anything, Obi-wan was the very essence of**_ not_** fine. He was unwell, poorly, hurt, in pain, ill and every other word that was a synonym to those. And it made Anakin angry that he could not fix that.

"Yes…" Obi-wan let out another cough. A bead of sweat ran down his forehead. "I am," he said. "No," his anger grew. "You're**_ not_**. Blast it, master, how can you even say that? You aren't fine!" He hissed. Obi-wan stared at him unexcitedly. There was no glow of disapproval that Anakin had shouted, no ember of anger, no flicker of indignance.

There was nothing there.

Anakin wanted there to be. He wanted his master back. He had wanted and cried and begged the force for Obi-wan back, and when he had gotten him back, he got this? This empty, broken husk? No, He wanted **_Obi-wan._**

He needed Obi-wan.

"Anakin," Obi-wan said; his voice husky. "Lower… Your... Voice," he could still give orders, of course. "Who are you to order me around?" Anakin demanded. He turned his back; he could not look at Obi-wan anymore. He couldn't. Not at the master he had almost lost, regained, and found like this.

It wasn't fair. "**_I'm_** the one who saved this mission. **_I'm _**the one who finished what you started. **_I'm_**, the one who did what no other master could," he half turned. "Not even you," cruel, certainly, but Anakin was too angry to care. Obi-wan didn't move, only watched him.

"I know," there was no emotion to his voice. Anakin's heart which had slowly been shattering, split. "Damn it!" he roared, enraged by this event. He was angry at himself now, how could he have just said that?

"I didn't want this! You don't **_deserve _**this! I wanted you to come back alive, not a half-broken, tortured shell! Why did you let this happen, master?" he turned, his anger sparking and dying in his heart uncontrollably.

"Why'd you let this happen to us? Why did you leave me to finish this alone? Why did you have to get captured? Why did you let that **_witch_** hurt you like this!? Why didn't you come back fine?" He slammed a fist into the wall, breathing hard. He could not face Obi-wan, if he did he would… He did not know what he would do. And that scared him. He was so afraid.

"I have… been asking myself… The same thing… Anakin," Obi-wan managed to whisper hoarsely, as if his heart were gone and only his body, barely working, remained. "I asked myself so many times," Anakin could feel his dead eyes staring into his back.

"I never… Found an… Answer. When Ventress," his voice skipped, almost as if he were an old holo-clip. "When she hurt me… I asked myself… Why I let her. I just… Never thought… _**You'd**_ ask me," Anakin's heart split again, into smaller pieces.

He wanted to say he was sorry, that he was selfish, he wanted to beg Obi-wan's forgiveness, but his throat was too full of tears. Obi-wan's statement had not been accusing anyway, merely thoughtful.

"I…I have been through….Things I hope… You never, ever… Have to go through. But so have you. I'm sorry, Anakin. I'm sorry I wasn't there," no, this was all wrong. Obi-wan should not be apologizing. Anakin should be the one doing that. Not his master. Guilt racked through him as if an electric volt.

"I was so afraid," guilt propelled him to tell the truth, and fear and desperation made his voice wobble with tears. A tear ran down his cheek.

"I thought you were gone. Dead. And I was alone. Alone to fight the battle that had killed the other Jedi. I was so afraid, more so than I've ever been in my life. And I hated you for leaving me like that. But most of all, I wanted you back," he gritted his teeth.

"I **_needed_** you, blast it! I needed you, master!" He turned, and more tears ran down his face when he saw Obi-wan's stare. It had feeling in it now, but this time the feeling was pain. And as Anakin watched, a single tear ran from Obi-wan's eye down his face and dripped off his chin.

He could not take that. He could take many of things. But not that.

"Force, **_I'm_** sorry," he gasped, turning around. He stumbled back to Obi-wan's bed. "I'm sorry, my master. Don't… Don't listen to me. Not a word of what I say. I'm… I'm just…" He didn't know what he was. He crashed against Obi-wan's bed and grabbed his hand.

**_"I'm just scared,"_** he whispered at last, telling the absolute, infinite, total truth for the first time in seven years.

****Obi-wan was trembling, his fragile body overworked with emotion. His force signature was dim with depression and pain. But despite that, Obi-wan's hand slowly, trembling the whole way, reached out and gripped the back of Anakin's hair uncertainly. The bony fingers dug themselves into Anakin's fluffy hair comfortingly.

"Me too, Ani," Obi-wan replied in a whisper. The use of his nickname (which Obi-wan had never used before) and the gentle touch sent Anakin over the edge. He grasped the hand at the back of his head and laid his own down on Obi-wan's stick legs.

"I missed you," he gasped as sobs racked his body. Obi-wan put a hand on his back. _This isn't right,_ Anakin thought. But the tears continued to flow hysterically, out of Anakin's command.

Again, he was helpless to do anything. "I missed you so much. I was so scared," he squeezed the hand at the back of his head as Obi-wan stroked his back lightly.

"I hate her!" His enraged shout was muffled by the blanket he was crying into. "I hate her for what she did!" Obi-wan did not answer, but Anakin could still hear the labored sound of his breathing above. I _shouldn't be doing this. I'm a grown man, for force sakes! Still crying in his arms like a child. And he's the one who should be crying._ But the tears, despite his thinking, continued.

"I'm sorry," he gasped into the sheet. "I… I don't know what's wrong with me," he tried to explain through sobs. But Obi-wan let out a small shushing sound. "It is right… That you do so," he replied, his voice strangled. "I'm a grown man," Anakin argued, his heart near bursting.

"Sure you are," was Obi-wan's only cough of a reply. Anakin gently grabbed Obi-wan's leg and squeezed. Obi-wan let out a small squeak of agony.

Anakin released. "Sorry," he hiccupped again. "Stop… Apologizing," Obi-wan answered through clenched teeth.

Anakin instead moved to grab the blanket on the side of Obi-wan; he wanted to scream with anguish and desperation, but the blanket prevented him, and besides, he had already lost the remainder of his pride in front of Obi-wan. He would not lose anymore.

"I missed you," he repeated. Obi-wan stayed silent. "I missed you," Anakin repeated, wanting a response. Anakin looked up and smiled bitterly when he saw Obi-wan's head had fallen to one side, his eyes closed, he was asleep.

_ Or, is he?_ Something in Anakin whispered. Just to reassure himself, he reached over and touched Obi-wan's hand. He felt his wrist. The heartbeat was flutteringly weak. Anakin's heart did a flip. "Obi-wan," he gasped, sitting up. "Obi-wan Kenobi, wake up," nothing.

Anakin grabbed Obi-wan by both shoulders, squeezing tightly. "Master!" he cried. "Master, wake up!" he shook him. Obi-wan's words echoed in his mind _"Make sure I… Don't fall… Asleep," _oh, no.

"Please," Anakin's voice cracked. "I beg of you, wake up, master," he pleaded. His heart nearly cracked with relief when Obi-wan's eyes fluttered open and a long breath was let out. "Thank goodness," Anakin breathed.

Obi-wan watched him passively for a moment, his eyes dead. Anakin stared back at him, and a shiver went up his spine. He knew that he had been about to lose his master.

He gulped. However, Obi-wan merely smiled feebly, without real heart, and put a bony hand on Anakin's shoulder.

"Don't worry," he said softly. "I promise, I won't…. I won't leave you again," Anakin nodded, feeling tears sting at his eyes. He gulped and laid his head back down. "I won't let you, anyway," he mumbled. Obi-wan let out a wheeze that could have been a chuckle. "I believe it," he agreed.

Anakin straightened out and grabbed Obi-wan's hand, on his shoulder. He squeezed gently, assuring, and his eyes held a promise.

_ I won't let anything happen to you, ever_.

Obi-wan read the promise, and a spark of hope returned to his eyes. Anakin felt his heart lift from the veil of anger and fear. That spark was all he needed.

Obi-wan would get better. Anakin would help him. They would move on.

"Take me home, Anakin," Obi-wan suggested softly. Anakin nodded and never taking his eyes from Obi-wan's, squeezed the rough hand again. "Yes, master."

* * *

Okay, for the faithful viewers who have followed my series, this is going to be an important moment looked back upon in the chaos to come! And for people who haven't read my series yet, you have alot of catching up to do! :)

~Queen Yoda


	2. Chapter 2

Obi-wan had always found Courascant beautiful at night, with the rainbow colored streaks of speeders flying past and the lights of businesses below, but he had to admit it looked even better from this vantage view.

He sighed and rested his elbows on the balcony rail. He was on one of the temples most remote balconies, forgotten many years ago.

Qui-gon had shown it to him. The secret of its location had been passed down; from Yoda to Dooku to Qui-gon to him, and one day he speculated Anakin would show Ahsoka this secret deck. It was high up, almost at the very top of the temple, thus making the wind from speeders whip his fluffy brown hair against his face gently.

He closed his eyes as another speeder passed, making him dizzy with its velocity. He sighed, he couldn't sleep, not tonight, and in the morning he would probably go on a mission, the council would call him down for another blood bath, or another meeting.

So many details, so many deaths…War was terrible, why did some say it could be glorious? There was no glory in winning. Because winning cost lives. Losing cost lives. Retreating, advancing, waiting, it all cost lives. Innocent lives. The cost wasn't worth it, any of it.

_What's the use of all this death?_ He wondered tiredly. _Why waste so many good lives? _He sighed and stroked his beard. Jedi did not think these things; they did not brood in such a negative manner. It was unseemly; it was a path to depression, to the Dark Side. He was a council member for force sakes. He should be able to handle this.

Somehow, having lived through both, the thought scared Obi-wan only slightly. He shuddered with sudden cold; and leaned back to wrap his cloak tighter around himself. All day, someone had pestered him over his sudden lapse in speech. Obi-wan had no clue why.

He was naturally reclusive, had been since the day he was born. He considered himself an awfully muted person. Besides, Jedi did not feel love, hate. There was no emotion, and particularly not today. Not today, any other day, but not this one.

It had been a year since…Since Jabiim. And Rattatack. Since Ventress. He shivered again, with reason that had little to do with the cold_. Keep your mind in the here and now,_ he ordered himself, as he had ordered the dozen or so people who inquired after him today.

_ "Are you sure you're alright, Obi?" _

_ "Hey, how you feelin Kenobi?"_

_ "Obi-wan, well, are you?" _

_ "How are you coping, Obi-wan?" _

_ "How are you doing, Obi?"_

_ "Obi-wan, it's normal to feel…Lost on days like these," _

_ "Just called to check up on you. Are you feeling alright?"_

He rolled his eyes affectionately. Did he appear as some still green Padawan to them? He was a grown man, and what was more he was a Jedi. He did not feel lost.

The emotions and memories bombarding his mind meant nothing; he paid them no heed. Nothing at all. The individual was nothing.

Besides, what did they know of this? What would any of them know about torture? And torture at Ventress's hands. Ventress, who was cruel, lusty, clever, _imaginative_…

Obi-wan stifled a whimper, closing his eyes. _Peace. The force. The present moment. It's gone. It's over._ He's moved on. He was not there with her anymore. He was alive. _So take that, you she __**witch**__!_

He surprised himself at the vehemence in his thought. He opened his eyes again and saw that his fists were balled at his side, inside of long sleeves of course, but still balled. His teeth were gritted. Already sweat prickled underneath his arms and along his collarbone.

_ Peace, you numbskull. Peace. _He tried to hammer into his conscious, which went cheerily away with its torturous ministrations. Obi-wan's heart ached for release. Just like he had ached after…_No! _

Striking him out of his thoughts by means of physical power, a familiar force presence stepped out of the small hole in the wall behind him that once, he supposed, might have been painted in brilliant colors but was dull and chipped with age now. How vibrant things were in youth.

The very picture of youth himself, Anakin Skywalker, appeared. Obi-wan quickly wiped at the tears he hadn't been aware were falling down his cheek. His eyebrows comically, burying some of his inner tension in celebration of the _present moment_. It had been many months since he last saw his friend, his former apprentice.

Anakin had changed, as he always did. Anakin seemed surprised to see him there, and below his tightly veiled calm expression, Obi-wan felt the simmering of boiling emotion. Oh, dear, Anakin was wearing his heart on his sleeve again. What had he done to anger the council this time? Or was it Ahsoka?

"Oh. Obi-wan. I…I did not notice you there. It's good to see you again, master," stammering? That was never a good sign. Anakin was always poised, always confident, if not _calmly_ confident in himself and his surroundings.

It was one of the perks Obi-wan had always admired about a man born into slavery. Anakin had always been proud of who he was, he _knew_ who he was, even as a child he had.

"And you, Anakin. Iinsist you come sit," he pointed to the one bench still reasonably intact on the other side of the balcony. "You look exhausted," he ordered. He was rewarded with a dull grin. There were dark circles under Anakin's eyes.

So, he hadn't been sleeping, probably not eating either. Fine. First thing in the morning, Anakin had better believe he was getting four platefuls of whatever breakfast struck Obi-wan's fancy.

_ "Oh, are you hungry, Obi dear? You look so pale. Here, have a crumb,"_ He shivered outwardly before quickly burying the emotion. There was no emotion.

He took Anakin by one elbow and steered him to the seat. "Master, you do realize I'm not your Padawan anymore, right? You can't…" Obi-wan had heard this so many times he had it memorized by heart, truly. It did not get any truer no matter how many times Anakin spouted it.

"Yes, but I _am _your friend, I _am _older, and I technically I _am_ still a master and you _are_ exhausted, so I'm doing it regardless," he interrupted calmly. Anakin rolled his eyes, but he was smiling feebly as Obi-wan forced him to sit.

"I'm fine," right, Obi-wan was just supposed to believe that. "I never said you weren't," he responded coolly, sitting himself. His knees creaked as he did so. And some joints seemed to slip out of place. He inhaled sharply.

War aged a man. Thankfully, this time, this night, Anakin had no teasing remarks to make about it. He simply grabbed Obi-wan's elbow and helped ease him down. At Obi-wan's quizzical glance he gave a small shrug. "My ankles are killing me too," he confessed. "Lucky you. I wish it were only my ankles," Obi-wan snorted.

They lapsed into cold silence. Obi-wan could feel the heat of Anakin's body next to him, a welcome respite from the chill around them. Their shoulders were touching just barely. Their breathing matching just exactly. The force binding around them, each trying to ease the other. He could hear Anakin's heart beat, and it was surprisingly steadying.

Anakin was examining him with intent eyes. "You look rather worse for wear," Obi-wan said at last, breaking the frigid silence. Anakin shrugged. "So do you," he pointed out. Obi-wan ignored this.

"What's troubling you?" He pressed. He had learned through hard experiences that Anakin did better with the direct approach, dancing in between the lines only frustrated him, and caused dispute. And right now, on_ this_ night, dispute with one of his best friends was the last thing he wanted.

"The same thing that's troubling you, Obi-wan. This is the night we brought you back from Ventress," Anakin snapped irritably. That was the consequence of being one of the direct approach. It made the truth harder to bear.

Obi-wan cleared his throat. Yes, well. That name, hardly spoken aloud the entire day, made him go stiff, and he lapsed into silence again. _The present moment. The present moment. Suck it up, Kenobi, you're being __**ridiculous.**_

After a tense moment, Anakin exhaled slowly. "I'm sorry," he said at last, sincerity ringing the force. "It's just…Well, I had a dream. About _that,_ and I started remembering and…Yeah. I haven't slept in awhile, if you can tell," he sighed, running a stressed hand through his hair. "I can tell," Obi-wan agreed quietly. He struggled to regain his composure.

_ "Weak, pathetic Jedi. Your Order will die one day, and in the ashes the Sith will take their rightful thrones," No, no, no. I will __**not **__remember that. You cannot hold that sway over me, Ventress. Get out of my mind, for force sakes. _

"What sort of dreams?" he inquired; eager to get back to the world of gross matter. "Just…Dreams. Horrible dreams. Master, I…I mean…I want to apologize to you," Anakin said, so softly that Obi-wan had to strain to hear him. He recoiled, taken aback. Anakin so rarely apologized for anything, in Obi-wan's mind he never had too. There was nothing to apologize for.

"Apologize? For what?" he demanded, wondering what exactly Anakin had done and how much trouble Obi-wan was going to get in on his behalf because of it. "For…" Anakin wriggled uncomfortably, eyes downcast, wrung heart _screaming_ in the force.

Obi-wan's concern blossomed into anxiety. Anakin would not act this way over some petty disagreement with the council. This went deeper, cut scars into something larger.

"Anakin- just spit it out. What?" Suspense was something he could not take, not when his emotions were working him over this way. Patience was not his foremost. Anakin was acting bizarrely, and this frightened Obi-wan more than it should have. He cared about Anakin more than he should have. They both knew it.

"Do you remember when…When we first found you, and you got really sick? You lapsed into a coma-like state. Do you remember that?" Anakin asked. Obi-wan scowled, reluctantly going through the few scattered memories he had of the short time out of Ventress's clutches.

He vaguely remembered feeling as if he were on fire. Remembered blurred images crossing his line of vision, remembered soft and low tones say something indescribable outside the heat and fuzziness of his body. Other than that, nothing.

"Not much," he admitted after a moment. A gust of wind moved their hair, made both shiver and press closer. "Besides a few images and a few voices. Why?" he asked. Anakin messed with his cybernetic fingers. "Do you remember saying anything?" He replied with a question.

Obi-wan was growing even more worried and immensely confused. "Nothing. Why are you asking me this, Anakin?" why was he asking Obi-wan to go into these memories on this day? There had to be a good reason. They never spoke of Jabiim or what happened before, after, during. Never.

"The doctors didn't think you were gonna make it. So, they let me in the room a lot. More than they did later," his mouth screwed into that disgusted line of displeasure Obi-wan knew so well. He felt a rueful tug at the corner of his lips.

_ Oh, Anakin._

"We were alone one night. You…You would wake up sometimes. The doctors said you could not but you did. I saw you. You did," he insisted, and he was speaking faster, almost panting, gasping for breath. Obi-wan heard his heart hammering against his ribs.

His own multiplied in speed. He had a_ very_ bad feeling about this.

"Mostly you would just stare in to space. Sometimes you would say things. Never to me, just…In the air. I don't know who you were talking too, but you'd say weird things…Then, one time, you looked at me," Obi-wan did not miss the shudder that wracked Anakin's body. He gulped.

"You looked at me for the first time. I was used to you talking, even opening your eyes sometimes, but never _looking_ at me. I was half-asleep by then. I was tired, and just listening to you talk soothed me. But that look…Force, master, you looked…You looked like a crazed animal. Like…Like there was something seriously _wrong_ with you," Anakin stopped fidgeting, staring instead into space. His deep blue eyes wavered, Obi-wan felt his breath hitch.

"Force, Obi-wan, don't ever look at me like that again. Ever. That scared me. It scared me more than anything in my life. I could not move I was so petrified. Don't ever look at me like that. Ever. Please," Obi-wan gripped his hand in his own, hard. Supplicated silently for him to cease, to oh force please_ stop_, his heart was breaking, but Anakin went on.

"Then…Then…" Anakin leaned forward and dug his elbows into his knees, placing his chin on a fist thoughtfully, though they both saw his bottom lip quiver. Obi-wan's heart was thundering in his chest. He did not relinquish his hold.

"Then you spoke to me. It was the first time you had done so. You-" Anakin was about to break. Obi-wan could see it, and if he did then Obi-wan would too. Force, his emotions raged within him like a typhoon.

He was nearly gasping for breath; sweat itched along every inch of his body. He wanted to yell at Anakin just to _tell_ him at the same time as beg him not to go on. He did not know why. He did not know what to do.

"You said my name. Quietly, like…Like I don't know. Just too_ quiet_, too calm, it was as if you were insane. Then…Master, you told me to kill you," Obi-wan could not contain a gasp of shock. He had _what_? "You begged me to just _kill _you, calmly, like it was simple. You said all I had to do was tug out a wire. No one would know. No one would care. You told me to hurry up and do it before anyone came," Obi-wan did not know what to say.

"Anakin…" he began helplessly. "I…I could not do it. I cannot do it, master. I told you so, and you…You yelled at me. You told me I was a pathetic street-dog. The you just fell back asleep. Just like that," a moment of silence. Obi-wan was having a hard time breathing. He had told Anakin what? He had called him _what_?

Disbelief spun around inside him, he would never say something like that to Anakin, _never_…

But he had. He knew he had because death had been such an inviting idea for him in those days. And anger…he had been so _angry _at everyone and everything. Though, the last person he had expected to have taken it out on was Anakin.

He had believed he probably snapped at the nurses or doctors. Not Anakin. Never Anakin. Guilt and sorrow built within him. Anakin should not have had to live through that.

Shocking him further, tearing his heart out even _further_, Anakin suddenly dropped to one knee before him, head bowed. "Master. I…Forgive me. I couldn't kill you, not there, not like that. I…I just can't. I'm too much of a coward, and now you're still living with the pain. Please, I beg you, forgive me," he gasped, and Obi-wan heard rather than saw the tears on his face.

He sat there, numb with shock, almost exhausted with grief and guilt.

Anakin was kneeling; Anakin was bowing to him. No, no, no. This was not how this worked. Anakin should never bow to him. Obi-wan refused to let him bow. He refused to be thought of as higher than this person-this_ man_-before him. If there was any apologizing to be done, it would be done with both standing, eyes parallel, they would do it as equals. Never on knees. Not to him. And another thing_, coward_?

Anakin Skywalker was no coward.

He dropped to his own knees, ignoring the pain, desperate to fix what was broken. "Don't you ever kneel to me," he growled as he took Anakin firmly by the shoulders. "Look at me, Anakin. Look at me," he then commanded. Hesitantly, his fear wrinkling the force, Anakin did as he bid.

Obi-wan knew he was thinking of those crazed eyes he had spoken of earlier. Force, what had he _done?_ If Qui-gon had ever said such a thing to him when he was a Padawan…Force, he could not hardly imagine it. "I will not _condemn _you for sparing my life," Obi-wan hissed, staring Anakin straight in the eye, past the blur of tears.

"You…You don't hate me? You don't want to die?" Anakin stuttered out, tearfully. Obi-wan heart was breaking; he could feel it. He had made Anakin_ cry_. The thought almost made him want to weep himself. Now, only now did he realize just how not_ alright_ he was. Just how much pain he was in, and not him alone. He was not the only one Ventress had tortured, it seemed.

"Anakin, of course I don't hate you. I could never hate you, no matter what you did. You could stab me in the back and I would not begrudge you the strike, Padawan," he gave Anakin a little shake, willing the force to show the genuine honesty in this statement.

"You don't want to die?" That…Was a harder question. Mainly because Obi-wan hadn't really thought about it since…Since that day a year ago. The day that landed on this day exactly.

He suspected most people did not sit down one afternoon and contemplate whether they wanted to die or not. Obi-wan, though, had a completely different reason than most people.

He did not want to think about it because he was _afraid_ of the answer his heart would give him. After Qui-gon, Jabiim, Siri…Life seemed not dull, or meaningless but…_Dimmer._ He could not explain, could not admit these things to Anakin.

Anakin, who was staring up at him with tearful and desperate pupils. Anakin, who looked up to him, who needed him to be the strong one, the immovable one, Anakin who _loved_ him deeply enough to feel guilty about not killing him. What sort of sick trickery was this?

Anakin never cried, never showed this much damned vulnerability until either they thought the other was dying or the day had been just so exceedingly devastating that the entire universe seemed to churn with its dark vileness. Why could peace never last longer than a day? Why was harmony so difficult to maintain?

Why did he still feel this way? Why this much at all? "I…" He had to face this, he had to answer this question, and answer it honestly. He was a well-versed liar, but not with Anakin.

Obi-wan inhaled deeply, and did not stop to think about it this time either. He let the force speak for him. "Not anymore," he whispered, and the words sent a shiver down his spine because he_ had_. When he had said that to Anakin, he had been half deranged with pain and grief.

He had not been in his right mind, but like always, he could not lie to Anakin. He had told the truth. He had wanted to die. Anakin did not answer. "I did. Then. I wanted to die, though I was not in my right mind when I said that to you, but I was not lying. I don't want to die anymore. After all, who would lecture you if I died?" he asked. Joking saved them once again.

"You barve," Anakin mumbled, eyes shining with unfathomable relief, and pulled them into a tight embrace. Obi-wan did not pull away, only settled Anakin against his chest.

"I'm sorry I said that Anakin. I was not fully cognizant, and to tell you the truth, not sane either. Forgive me," he whispered against Anakin's ear. "I was never angry," Anakin mumbled in his shoulder, sniffling lightly.

"Forgive me anyway." Apologizing was his tactic, his job. Never Anakin. Modesty was something he had explicitly copyrighted for himself.

"Whatever. You're making me breakfast in the morning," Anakin mumbled his standard forgiveness. "Four plates, you look like you haven't eaten in days. Must I remind you of the most quintessential of tasks as well? And you will spend the rest of your day tomorrow _sleeping_. You do us no good as a walking corpse on the battlefield. Didn't I entrust Ahsoka to these things? She's fired," he harrumphed.

For force sakes, Anakin was a grown man now. Shouldn't he know these things? Obi-wan remembered teaching it to him, vividly.

_ Shouldn't you know by standard wisdom that burying emotions does not get rid of them? _

Blasted Qui-gon, most dead people don't try to teach when their living Padawan's were almost forty years old, but he had to be different. "I do not need a _youngling_ to look after me," Anakin growled. "Lying is not the Jedi Way. I suppose I'll have to watch after you then, to make sure you don't disobey my all-awesome instructions," was the boy smirking? Impudent scalawag. "I'd like that master," he was smirking.

Obi-wan's heart melted, he was slightly curious about it, he had thought Anakin tore it out earlier, but no, it was still there. It was still there. Ventress had not taken it, no one had. It was over, truly.

Obi-wan sighed. "You little delinquent," he hissed. "You've made me _maternal_," he growled. "You've made me emotional. We're even," Anakin replied, his voice slightly muffled. Obi-wan let out a breath through his nose.

Anakin always did this to him, particularly late at night and on days like this. It was something in the way Anakin looked at him that made him naturally protective, which softened the walls of Jedi reserve into something more fatherly.

_I never can lie to him. It'll be the death of me. _

"Anakin?" The wind stirred again, gently this time, the cold not as biting. "Thank you for my life," meant in many different ways, honestly. Anakin was the reason he was alive, that he yet loved, that life had not spiraled into something more terrible than he could imagine. Anakin w s the gift he had never deserved, the savior he had never asked for.

"My pleasure," he had no clue what Obi-wan meant, did he? He was so clueless sometimes. Anakin did not realize that Obi-wan had just told him he was his universe, his little brother, the only thing tying him to the Jedi, to life in general. It did not matter. They were Jedi yet.

But for today, the first time in a year, he was a Jedi at peace.


End file.
